


The Interview

by Rollingstone



Category: Original Work
Genre: Serial Killer, Serial Rapist, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollingstone/pseuds/Rollingstone
Summary: A fictional scenario that follows historical facts; an insight to Paul Bernardo's atrocious works.





	The Interview

**Author's Note:**

> I've posted a couple fanfiction stories on AO3, but i never thought to post an original work; here's something i did about a year and a half ago.

“The thirst, I suspect, is what continued to fuel my ravishing. The- the thirst of such a divine feeling, of complete and utter control. That is what, I suppose, urged me to engage my desires. What started them, well…” his chuckle was a deep vibration, laying in the room like autumn fog, “perhaps it is the entitlement in my blood, the practice passed from my father of taking what is rightfully men’s. The right to take what was so preciously, yet so uselessly bestowed upon the young women of earth; a virginal gift meant for men. And yet women guard it like its there’s to keep. Despite my mother’s disgusting mistake,” he paused with trembling lips, his teeth coming forth to still them, trying to conceal the snarl coming forth, “she knew she had no right to refuse men. And the man who I had wrongfully called father knew that she was his to use as he saw fit. 

“’twas the only moral I perceived from the man, with every other molecule of my body I loathed him and my mother. And I conceived this understanding of truth at the age when thought entered my mind- no, no… I never truly understood the thoughts I had as a young boy, why the thought of a female under my full control was so alluring, but I did when I reached the age of true knowledge.” Slowly a grin stretched his handsome face, his dimples appearing in their charismatic nature. “That was when I finally understood that this thirst needed to be quenched… needed to be fed.

“in university I was occupied with the ambitions to become an accountant, attending classes and the nearness of a well-paying job kept my eyes on an alternative life style. But when the routine of school became humdrum and usual the desires of my heart crept into my mind cloaked as dreams in the night. Once conceived they became omnipresent. My body itched to be dominant, to be alpha, to conquer a gift that was mine, mine, mine to take.” A rattling breath shrilled through his teeth. 

“it wasn’t difficult to ease my desire when I graduate, however, in the mean time I choked and strangled on my fantasies. I remember the first time I tasted the sweet power of complete control over another; it was rattling, it was ecstasy in a way I’d never felt before- it was revolutionary. But it was the high of Sweet Crystal, it was to quickly gone for me to appreciate it- short of an hour before I left her crippled on the ground in her filth. 

“I needed more.

“I waited, waited, waited… till the nightly bus came around and then I watched. And I watched the night after, and after and after. I waited and waited and waited- pending, my blood boiled and my heart raged in my chest! This time I feasted. There was no deny this time, no waiting. 

“I became sloppy in my passion, in my ravishing. Nearing the end of September of… 1987?... I learnt how my lesson in messiness. She was a young thing; no more than fifteen I’d say. I came through her window, and smothered her against my body. I had just smothered her fierce spirit when the door flung open and a scream pierced the room. I ran faster than I ever had, and my heart was thumping with a fear I’d never before experience; a powerlessness I willed myself never to feel again.” His eyes looked far into his life, a haze of memory fogging his features.

“Then I meet her; Karla Homolka. It was… what was it? ’87? ’88? It matters not. She was my Yoko Ono. She was mine, pliant to my will. She was like a badly made pottery, not baked long enough to stay hard under water but still enough to shatter. And shattered she was, it’s what made her perfect; she wallowed so deep in her insecurities and despair that when I came along and praised her every flaw, she became new clay for me to mold how I wished. She did everything to please me,” he snickered cruelly, “she really bent herself out of shape for my pleasures. But that wasn’t the reason I decide to keep her as mine. No, no, no, I could pluck any women from the street and make her bend in any way I desired- her worth came from her devotion. She encouraged my fantasies, my… sadism, if you will. 

“she even helped build the castle in the sky.

“I showered her in flowers and affection, so when it came to my proposal in 1989, I wasn’t fazed when she threw her arms around me in delight. Despite what you may believe, she knew what she was engaging; I certainly never hid my nightly exploration her. Controversially, there were many times we’d make a… date, out of them. It was a bonding experience, if you will. 

“we lived with her folk, who adored me silly, and Karla’s younger sister, Tammy. Tammy was thrilling in every movement she made; her adoration for me was far more luring then id expected. There had been one thing Karla hadn’t been able to give me and that had been her virginity. Tammy though, she was only 15, she was a precious lily, white and pure, delicate in all ways in which the slightest touch would wilt her petals. I hungered to pick that lily so sweetly. 

“I consulted Karla immediately, praising her sister, and she, eager to please, offered her on a silver platter. She’d give me her sisters virginity as pension for not being able to give her own… it was a Christmas gift of sorts. Karla stoned her with valium she’d stolen from work, she’d hidden it in her spaghetti, and alas, it was 60 seconds of sweet, sweet heaven. She was so pure and innocent, her angelic face was slack, as though in deep sleep, as I had my way with her. But alas it was only sixty seconds of sweet, sweet heaven. The valium had been far too weak, and within minutes we had to have her rearranged and laying on the couch, hover over her in fringed concern. We showered her in concerned questions, asking if she was allergic to anything, if she was having troubles breathing, if she was hurt.” He started crackling, his head bowed his shoulders hunched and shaking, “she said she was s-sore!” His head flew back as laughter erupted from his throat. “she was fluster and her cheeks were cherry blossom red, and she said- she said she was SORE!” his arms curled around his stomach, and as he gasped in missed breaths, finally calming his manic state. 

“huh-huh- hehehehe. Ah… yes, she was clueless, hadn’t an idea what’d happened to her. And good riddance, should she have woken up before we’d rearranged her, we wouldn’t have gotten a second chance at her. It was the next year when she was truly delivered to me as a gift of Christmas. 

“this time we weren’t so naïve; Karla drugged Tammy with an animal tranquilizer after the family Christmas party.” His eyelids drooped heavily over his dilated pupils, his mouth lightly agape as a swoosh of air flew past his lips, “Karla brought out a video recorder as I was riding Tammy of her cloths, she’d smiled and said, ‘Christmas it’s a time for family memories, is it not?’ Karla sang praises as I rutted into her sister, rutted and rutted and rut and rut and rut…” he clenched his hands together and folded them beneath the table, metal clinging together chimed through the stale air. “I didn’t stop until Karla grabbed me from behind and pulled me away from Tammy. Her naked body was convulsing, rattles cascading through her body, shaking as though possessed by the devil. That was when I noticed the bile leaking down the side of her cheek, and when we turned her over, Christmas dinner spewed across the basement floor. I think she was dead before we called the ambulance, anyhow she was dead when they arrived. I’d say it’s a miracle they bought our story, that she died chocking on her own vomit as an inexperienced drinker, but miracles come from The LORD our God, and there was no miracle any god would send us.” His head suddenly whipped up, eye frantic as they scanned the room, “I swear on my life that we hadn’t planned to kill her- in the morning we’d merely tell her that her drink had been strong then she could handle and she’d passed out; that was our plan, I swear.

“We moved out of Homolka resident in 1991, about a month after our slip up, giving Karla’s family time to grieve. We found a lovely cozy home in a neighborhood of St. Catharine’s. It was very… bountiful ground, we found. I scrutinized Karla prudently, observing for a change in heart; a hesitance towards my nature. She never stumbled, she was flawless in her partnership with me. So much so that we married.

“We married the same day the body was found.

“Admittingly, I wasn’t in the area to look for a warm body, but the thirst was always burning like a gaseous star and she was standing before her locked door under a starless night. Her youth shone forth with her naivetés, she couldn’t have been older then fourteen, for with the simple promise of a fag she was being led to my car. I’d reached into the back seat to find my lighter when I swerved around,” he roughly jerked his body to the side in a mock veer, “I wrapped a sweater around her head and wrestled her in; she was tall but slight and the match was effortlessly won. When we arrived at my home, I dragged Leslie Mahaffy in side and handed her to Karla; where she then intoxicated her, and blinded her with a fold. Then the camera was rolling. 

“It was restless abuse, a rhythm like a drum filled my blood with music and the choir sang with pants, moans, groans, screams, crescendo’s and then finally decrescendo; the rest in between where Leslie Mahaffy laid sobbing and begging, telling me about her brother and her family is when I gave her a stuffed bear and left her howling herself hoarse. And then I was back again, pounding into her unwilling body as power pumped through my veins, complete control easing me into peace. 

“It was during this that I realized her blind fold had slipped. I stared into her petrified blue eyes, eyes like the hottest burning of a flame- where the wicks tip of a candle is ingulfed in blue. I watch her bright soulful blur eyes bulge and swell red as I wrapped an electric cord around her long elegant neck, the skin becoming inflamed and raw. She struggled vigorously, but I fastened her body down between my legs. When her eyes rolled behind her head I let the cords slither lose through my hands.

“You may find it odd when I tell you of the relief the poured through my body as I touch her enflamed neck and felt her pulse. It was like cool water over a sizzling burn; I had had no desire to kill the girl. However, I was done with her body; it had satisfied its use and my needs and need to be dropped off to which she’d be released. I was almost certain her terrified state would muffle her memory beyond reliable proof. Thus, I left her to Karla’s device, and readied the car with fuel. 

“When I bent to lift her body, I was weighed by the pounds of a corpse.

“You see, it was likely she died from the drugs the Karla had given her, and had remitted into her when preparing for transport. But now we had a body; a body we couldn’t call in with an excuse to. 

“We had to do something with it, no doubt about that, but our productiveness was stilted when Karla’s family came over for Father’s Day and we had to move the body down stirs to the basement, and gee was it a hassle to keep the parents away from the down stairs. When they left, however, we had a new addition to the home; the Old Papa’s saw. 

“Karla was at work when I did it. I first washed her body of the filth, taking extra precision in cleaning her face. When I put the shredded teeth against her soft mushy skin I expected resistance, difficulty in one form or another, but the saw glided through her flesh in horrific beauty. I had to detour the saw, of course, when the saw hit her bone, but it was easy enough to glide between the jointed areas. It was no different, I thought to myself, then cutting down a proud fir at Christmas time, humming a carol to add the rhythm, silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright, round yon virgin and child, holy interment so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace…” his voice drifted through the room like gas through the Auschwitz chambers. “I rinsed and bags each limb as I went, washing them in the laundry sink in the basement, where I was dissembling her. her lower torso was the messiest, as you may imagine… it took all hours of the day, but by the time I was done there were manifold cement block incasing her body, each being carriable between me and Karla. 

“they found her body in Lake Gibson on our wedding, June 29, 1991.” Delicate whooshes of air were the only audible sound, the variations of breaths. 

“There was one more mishaps after that. A beautiful black rose. Her skin was that of a china doll, and she had lots of it, with long legs, a slim stomach, full curves… and her hair; long black hair that gleamed like a raven’s feather, it was softer than any other girls I’d touched before (and there had been many). 

“she was walking home from school when me and Karla posed as travelers looking for directions. We didn’t try to be subtle this time, we were aiming to be quick; while Karla busied her with questions, I came behind her with knife pointed to her neck. She was in the car easily enough, and Karla stayed in the back seat to tame Kristen French with her sleek raven hair. 

“Kristen French was vastly different from the others. For one, we didn’t blind fold her; for two, we weren’t stupid enough to drug her, instead we kept her subdued with copious amounts of alcohol; and three, she wasn’t just a tool to fix my sexual endeavors, I was using her to satisfy a new burning… I suppose you’d call it blood thirst, but I wouldn’t; I didn’t have the desire to kill her, only to inflict variations of pain. 

“I suppose she was a bit of an experiment; one that didn’t fair well, but still, an experiment. We had her tied to a hope chest, a noose around her neck, and it must have been the third day we had had her, because she’d tried to escape the morning previous. When Karla had found Kristen in the act of escaping she was furious; I’d never seen that gleam in her eyes, and to be honest, it was a tad of a turn-on. She beat Kristen for hours with a rubber mallet, coming down on the girl like I’d never seen before, and she didn’t stop after Kristen had passed out. 

“I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise then, when in the morning she was cold as a stone. Karla was beside her, petting her hair, when I arrived. 

“On April 30th, 1991, you found her in a ditch, nude, and with her hair chopped off.” Silence again chimed through the room. The ventilator’s in the building buzzing slightly, and the muffled sound of metal clinking together were the only break in the stillness. 

“she was being an un-submissive bitch. That’s why I did it. I beat her till she was blue; till she was crying and sobbing like a girl I picked up on the street. It was disgusting to see her act in such a way, she was supposed to be better than that! She was my partner, my wife, she was mine and she DENIED ME! I laid fist” he slammed his curled fist on the top of the table, “after fist!” again, “after fist!” and again, his fit becoming more violent, “and she still wouldn’t submit!” he snarled his teeth, slamming both hands on the table in unison. His hair fell before his wild eyes as he bowed his head. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone out, leave to cool down; it was my right to do as I wished with her, I should have locked her up if I needed space, not leave. She betrayed me; when she left my side, she betrayed me… she betrayed me, me, she betrayed her husband, her inferior… how could she….”

“Mr. Bernardo? Mr. Bernardo? Please focus. Now, after Mrs. Homolka left the house she went to the hospital and reported you for domestic abuse, correct?” a man at the end of the long table asked, although the papers he was shuffling through were legal documents confirming what he asked. Paul Bernardo nodded. 

“Right. And when her parents picked her up from the hospital, Karla Homolka confessed to her mother what she and yourself had done, correct?” Paul Bernardo nodded, head still bowed. “this is good, Mr. Bernardo, this is very good. We can work with this. Your confession and willingness with be used to create justice for everyone.” The man routinely said, pushing up his glasses absent mindedly. He flipped through a few more papers until he found what he was looking for. “Ah, yes, here we are. do you affirm that the confession you have just given is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

Paul Bernardo raised his chin, eyes shot and distanced, 

“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, please leave your thoughts.  
peace and love,  
Grace


End file.
